The Hound's Heart
by Aimee.Lilith
Summary: Sandor and Sansa have fled King's Landing, but what's next? Where could they go now? With the help of a few new friends along the way, the two are taking any means necessary to take back their freedom. Faced with new challenges and new feelings along the way, will they ever be truly free? Sequel to 'Not a Child Any Longer.'
1. Chapter 1

When nightfall finally came, Sansa couldn't shut her eyes for a moment on her violent, bouncing ride. Sandor lead them out to a hilly plain where moonlight began to shine across the green. Pulling the reins back, Sandor slowed down the pace of the horse and brought them to a gentle walk through the grass.

Yawning through her hood, "Where are we?" Sandor spoke gently to her ear, "We've been riding for two nights, we're a bit away from King's Landing."

"And where are we going?" Sansa asked.

The Hound answered, "I told you I'd take you home, that's where we're going."

"What do you think is going to happen back at King's Landing." Sansa asked, almost cheered in her voice.

"Don't know, when I left, Stannis' troops already made it past the shoreline and through the wall."

Sansa's spirits lowered when she reminded herself of the few she cared for in King's Landing, "Shae, my handmaiden... I hope she's all right."

"If she's spirited as I think she is, she'll be fine."

"And Tyrion, I hope he'll be safe..."

Sandor chuckled before he answered comfortingly, "The imp makes up his brawn with his brains, he can handle himself, I'm sure."

Warmed by Sandor's good mood, Sansa reminded him, "I never got to say thank you, Sandor. For saving my life... Again."

Sandor pulled down her hood and kissed the hair on her scalp, "You'll never have to, little bird..."

Blushing from his tenderness, Sansa placed her hands overtop of his and smiled brightly, "What's that over there?" She spotted a large cabin in the middle of the plain, grey smoke began puffing out of its long chimney.

Nudging the horse into a trot, Sandor spoke again, "Our checkpoint."

* * *

><p>Sandor brought them to a wooden inn in the field, he dismounted the horse and helped Sansa out of the saddle and into the mud.<p>

He tied the horse to a beam outside the wooden tavern and stepped through the wooden door, Sansa closely followed.

Inside was a full bar and a man wiping down a table, when he glanced up to see the Hound, the innkeeper smiled through what teeth he had left, "Need a room?"

Sandor began, "For the night, we'll be gone in the morning." The old man rested the cloth on the table and nodded his head, "Yes yes, that'll be five stags, if you will."

Sansa followed Sandor to the old man as he paid the gold from his small satchel, "Follow me, i'll lead you to your room." The old man held the door open for the two, Sandor briskly walked inside, Sansa paused before the old man at the door and thanked him with a smile.

Shutting the door behind them Sandor sat on the bed and rested his aching bones, removing his armor from his body and casting his gloves to the floor and removing his shoulder pads with his fingers.

As Sansa glanced about the room, she noticed a bed, a table, and an aged wardrobe. She placed her eyes over to Sandor and sat down next to him, noticing all his armor removed from his body. He lay back against the bed and let out a rattled groan of release, Sansa lay on her side next to him and slung her arm across his chest.

"You're worn to the bone, Sandor, rest."

Glancing back to her, he replied, "That doesn't sound that bad of an idea."

He took in her hand gently and kissed it, Sansa felt his warm breath against her fingertips. Gasping from the shivering sensation, Sansa spoke, "You're cold."

"I'm all right." He patted her hand lightly, "Get some sleep, you've hardly slept."

She nodded her head and removed her cloak, stepping up from the bed and placing it on the foot of the bed. "Will you be sharing the bed with me tonight?"

"Only if you want me to, if not i'll sleep soundly on the chair."

Sansa studied him and responded doubtful, "You can't just sleep in the chair."

"I can sleep on the floor like a babe."

She laughed to him and answered happily, "You don't have to sleep on the floor, you can sleep on the bed."

"It wouldn't be right." He answered huskily, "We aren't married, and I'm not planning to bed you for a long time now..."

The redhead took slight offense to that, the way he spoke seemed almost sarcastic to her as she twiddled her fingers.

Sandor turned to her and realized his recoiled words, "It's not that I don't want to, Sansa," He spoke her name, one of the few times he's done that. "It just wouldn't be... appropriate, 'specially not for a lady."

The man may be a killer, a drunk at times, a bloodthirsty dog with a sword but Sandor still had a sense of moral. Sansa was a lady, still pure and so innocent, in a way it made him drawn to her even further. But he knew deep down, that if he took her right now he would never forgive himself for the rest of his being.

"Sandor, you can sleep with me... We just won't _sleep_ together." She said, resting herself on the other side of the large bed. Sandor glanced over to her, watching her crawl underneath the thick blanket.

When she comfortably made herself under the covers, Sandor followed, wrapping himself inside the blanket and shutting his eyes tightly.

To Sansa's surprise, she felt the warm arm of Sandor cross her chest, pulling her closer to his side. She smiled at the warm touch of their two bodies bordering each other, the bend in his knees matched perfectly into the crook of hers as they warmed each other with their heat.

"This is nice," Sansa added, "It's like spoons..." Her hands folded delicately into his, bringing them to her face and breathing lightly on them as she drifted off into a sleep.

* * *

><p>Morning came around and Sandor found his arms wrapped around Sansa's torso and her breath kissing his fingertips.<p>

He gently removed his hand out of her grasp and removed himself off of the delicate maiden's body. He stepped off the bed and stretched out his arms before scratching his ragged beard and glancing down at his armor on the floor.

After minutes of fidgeting with the laces on his metal plates, Sandor's armor was finally completed. He quietly stepped through the room and out the door, closing it silently behind him.

After moving himself to the main hall, Sandor noticed there were more people here than before. Some tables were full with small folk men in ragged clothing, all talking amongst themselves.

Sandor made his way over to the barstools and sat himself down in a chair, watching the old bartender approach him hastily with a silver pitcher in his hand, "I remember you, you're the man who came in last night, with the redhead, right?"

He didn't answer that.

"Well what can I get 'ya?"

"Anything cheap."

The bartender laughed as he began pouring a dark brown liquid into a wooden mug, "Where are you two headed?"

He didn't answer that either.

"Where have you been?" The old bartender asked, sliding Sandor his full mug.

"None of your business, barty." Sandor barked in answer.

The old man nodded his head and raised his eyebrows, "All right, forget I asked. It's just you two don't look like you're from 'round here, I ain't seeing any sigils on your shoulders."

Sandor ignored that as well and took a long swig from him ale, it sickened his tongue when he tasted its bitter flavor. The old man continued further, "You lookin' to go north?"

"I'm lookin' to shut your fucking trap." He growled, warning the old bartender. Instead of fear, the man simply smiled and spoke, "All right then, i'll leave you be."

The bartender turned back to the two men at the other point of the bar and began talking to them instead, all men began flashing short glances back to Sandor and rough snickers.

Ignoring their giggles, Sandor took another gulp from his mug, glancing about the room and its surroundings. One of the men beckoned to him, "You're the bloody Hound aren't ya? And that redhead girl must be the Stark daughter from King's Landing."

Taking a quick glance back to the ginger across from him, Sandor growled, "Does it matter?"

"Ain't you supposed to be in the castle, then?"

"I'm looking to go north, old man." Sandor called to the bartender, finishing up his ale and ignoring the freckled face.

The bartender nodded his head and responded lightly, "Well then you're talking to the right people," he made a gesture following the three men next to him. "This is Hal, and that freckled shit you see is Neeson."

Hal gave him a sarcastic grin and returned, "How north you lookin' to go?"

Sandor shot a wicked glance back to the man and answered sharply, "Doesn't matter."

"There's a ship that's waitin' for us on a dock in Rosby, it's sailing today for Greywater Watch." The dark blonde scratched the long stubbles on his chin, "If you're looking to tag along, just say so."

"Not enough gold." Sandor said, near sullenly.

"No charge," Hal replied, "A pair of friends were going to sail with us, but they didn't make it past King's Landing. Had a cabin reserved for them, you and your redhead are welcome to it."

Neeson shot his eyes towards him and whispered, "You fucking daft, Hal? That's the Hound! He's a bloody killer!"

"And that is," Hal continued, ignoring him, "You're to stay out of sights, and if you are, you're going to have fake aliases. I don't need no soldiers coming up from King's Landing asking if we're harboring two runaways from the palace. Do we have a deal?"

* * *

><p>"Sansa, little bird it's time to wake up."<p>

Shaking Sansa's thin shoulder lightly, he watched her flip over and flutter her lids open as she whispered quietly with a smile, "Good morning."

"Morning," He muttered in return, "Get up, I'm taking you to Winterfell."

Sansa's eyes bolted open in regards to Sandor's words, she gasped and sprung to a sitting position as she cried happily, "R-Really?!"

Feeling pleased by Sansa's sudden smile, Sandor retorted contently, "Yes, but we have to leave now. Put your cloak on, keep the hood up."

As happy as she was, his words were cautious towards Sansa, only making her abruptly uneasy, "All right..."

Nodding her head, her took her small face in her hands and kissed her smooth forehead. "I hope you aren't seasick, we're going on a ship."

"A ship? I've never been on a ship before..."

"It's not so bad. There's a port about five miles from here, and we're going to have some company."

"Company?"

Sandor raised her eyebrow and answered regrettably, "Yeah, not exactly a welcoming party but they have a ship."

Her eyes worried when she returned to him, "Our plan is to get on a ship and go to Winterfell?"

"It's faster than a horse, but we have to leave now." Moving his hands to her head, he gently pulled up her hood to her scalp and glanced across her pink smile, "You're beautiful, you know that?"

Sansa's smile broadened across her rosy cheeks, "Thank you." She said warmly, resting a sweet kiss across his cheek and returning her beaming eyes to his.

From behind them, a loud grunt was heard, as if someone was obnoxiously clearing his throat. The lovers turned to the figure and noticed a short, ginger man leaning against the doorway with a smirk on his lips, "Don't mean to interrupt nothing, but we've got to get goin' now."


	2. Chapter 2

**I AM SO, SO, SO, SO, SO SORRY FOR THE LATE UPLOAD!** It's way overdue and I feel horrible about it, new uploads will come much sooner, I promise! Please enjoy!

Sandor brought Sansa to the Inn's muddy grounds, where they were warmly greeted by Neeson and Hal

"It's 2 days ride to Duskendale Port on a trot," Hal stated, "Not a problem, is it?"

"No." Sandor answered bluntly, Hal clapped his hands and exclaimed gratefully, "Excellent, shall we?"

The brothers lead their company out to the horses as Neeson began promptly to Sansa's side, "You ever been on a ship before?"

Sandor took notice towards Neeson's wandering gaze, Sansa answered politely, "No, i've just been on horseback."

"Well it's a bit like a horse, you know, you're rocking back most of the time. But mostly you just get to walk around a bit and relax."

When Sandor brought Sansa to the horse, he lifted her into the saddle so both of her legs swung to one side of the horse. Before he lifted himself, Sandor wasted no time in showing Neeson a glare that could only be described with the words, 'Don't fuck with me.' Making Neeson quiver in his tiny red ringlets.

After amusing himself, Sandor lifted himself on the leather saddle and boosted Sansa on his lap. "Hold onto me, little bird." Sansa threw her arm around his back and the other across his chest, he clutched onto her through the reins and turned the horse to face the group.

* * *

><p>After an hour of riding, the group finally slowed themselves down to a gentle walk through a thick forest. Neeson cried from the back of the herd, "How much longer? I've got to take a wicked piss..."<p>

"Not much further, Neeson," Hal retorted, "You can hold it a bit longer." It was clear to Sansa that Hal was older than Neeson, he was much more mature and handsome than Neeson, and he seems to put up a lot from him.

Sandor touched her hand and asked in a whisper, "You doing all right?"

She sighed and responded wearily, "Yes, I'm all right..."

"Good girl. Won't be much longer, I imagine. We'll have to take a break sooner or later."

Sansa took a glance back to the ginger behind her horse, then returning her gaze back to Sandor, "Can we trust them?" Raising his eyebrow, he peered back up to Neeson's horse. Sandor brought his thick arm across Sansa's chest and gently clutched her shoulder, pulling her ever so closer to him. "Don't be afraid, I told you I'd keep you safe, and that's what I'm going to do. But I don't think these lads are a real threat."

"How do you know that?" Sansa asked with the lightest amount of attitude, Sandor answered her hastily, "For starters, the ginger's a chicken shit. Wouldn't last a minute in a swordfight, especially when _both of them_ don't have swords. They're all getting out of the south, they're sick of the Lannister's shit, too. They lived in King's Landing, they escaped when the war broke out, they don't care who we are."

Sandor certainly wasn't stupid, if anything he had more brains than Sansa imagined, nothing seems to slip past him. When the leader of the group stopped his horse, they arrived themselves at a small inlet connected to a little stream.

_This... brings back bad memories..._ Sansa grimly thought, remembering her horrific hunting morning with Joffrey.

_What are you doing? _

_Getting rid of the enemy! _

_Your grace, I beg of you, please don't!_

Snapping out of her gloomy trance, Sansa found herself being lifted out of Sandor's lap and then suddenly pulled gently out of her saddle and into the damp mud on the ground.

* * *

><p>When the sun went down, the two brothers huddled by a fire while Sandor kept his distance with Sansa. The crackling of the fire reminded Sansa of how quiet Sandor has been all day, scooting closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder, she asked generously, "Are you all right?"<p>

Sandor answered her in a grunt, "Yeah." Swinging her arms across him, he followed her lead and curved his arm easily around her. "Are you tired?" She asked again.

"I'm fine." He grumbled in response, feeling Neeson's unpleasant stare upon him.

"So, Sandor," Neeson spoke, his mouth full of a piece of bread, he walked closer to him and projected, "I've heard tales of the terrible Hound, what happened to your face?"

Neeson was immature for his age, that much Sandor could tell about him, still he lied in response, "Accidently set my bedding on fire when I was a boy."

Neeson lifted his brows in surprise, "Thought you might've burned it in combat from the looks of you... Reminds me of when Hal threw my teddy bear in the fire pit because I called him a greasy snatch."

Sandor scanned around the group, his eyes met with Neeson's, who was finishing off a piece of bread before he smiled through his crumby teeth. Leaving a grunt of disgust, he turned away from the ginger and stood from his seat, pulling Sansa up from the ground and onto her feet.

"You off to sleep now?" Neeson asked, mouth full of dry bread, "Well, night." Sandor pulled Sansa away from the group before Neeson could say, "Not much of a talker is he?"

Earlier in the day, Sandor made up a small spot next underneath a tree for him and Sansa. He rested himself against the tree and pulled Sansa into his lap, surprising Sansa and making her giggle on his legs. "You're in a good mood," Sansa chirped.

Before Sansa could answer him, Sandor already enclosed her lips as he planted a soft kiss on her mouth. Gladly returning the favor, Sansa folded her hands against the back of his neck and enjoyed the sweetened nectar of his saliva against his tongue.

Sandor pushed his lips against hers softly and released all his tension into their passionate kiss, then suddenly stopping as he remembered a pair of eyes would be watching his every move. Sansa questioned his still lips, "What's wrong?"

"Not here..." He said silently.

Pushing the auburn hair out of her face, Sansa caressed Sandor's scruffy beard with her fingers. "Do you think this is a bit strange? Running off together through the woods and going off on a ship with a group of strangers? It sounds like a romance book I'd be reading if I was..."

She paused, almost frozen in her abhorrent thoughts, "If I was back in the castle." Looking to her face, Sandor shook his head and began softly, "You're never going back there, I promise you that."

Again, she rested silently, but after a moment of thought, she began hastily, "What happened the night we left? To your brother?"

"You don't need to know about that."

"But I want to." Sansa's words were firm like stone, it was clear enough to Sandor he wasn't getting out of this one.

"When Gregor attacked you, I killed him," His words sounded bloodthirsty and sinister, "But when I finished with him, you were still out cold. I didn't know what happened to you, but you weren't raped, just beaten up a bit."

Hearing Sandor's insights calmed her slightly, "But I promise you, Sansa," His fingers practically covered her little face as he stared intensely into her blue, worried eyes, "I will do everything in my power to _never_ let that happen to you again."

A light smile blushed across her lips again as she nodded her head, feeling over emotional from Sandor's infrequent, touching words.

* * *

><p>Sandor woke first, again.<p>

His eyes met Sansa's closed lids and her thin eyebrows, she breathed lightly as she kept sleeping under the dimly lit trees. He lifted himself to his knees and glanced about, Sandor could see Hal walking towards the horses, leaving Neeson to sleep.

Taking his first step towards the horses, he silently evaded waking Sansa from her sleep. Hal turned to him and greeted Sandor through his bearded smile, "Morning."

Sandor mumbled in return, stepping closer to him, "When are we heading out?"

"If we don't make and frequent stops, we should arrive in Rosby by sundown."

Sandor moved his gaze back to Sansa, sleeping underneath her black cloak with her orange hair splayed out in all directions like a fire. Hal began tenderly, "Wanted to apologize for Neeson's behavior last night, he's not exactly a people person. He's just a bit younger than me, but I'm all he's got so I have to look after him..." He dozed off for a moment as he glanced back over to his group, "We've been through a lot in the past but we somehow make it though..."

Hal elbowed him and implied Sansa with his light touch, "She seems like a nice lass." Sandor glanced in his direction and watched the redhead turn over and slowly rise to a sitting position on the ground, "Better go fetch her then." Hal spoke again.

Without a word to say, Sandor walked briskly back to his small camp spot and caught Sansa's attention. "Morning," She spoke generously, watching him kneel beside her and greet warmly, "Morning."

Her hair was unkempt from her slumber, but Sandor paid no attention at all when he welcomingly kissed her scalp. "Are we leaving?" She asked, Sandor spoke in return, "Aye, come on up now."

Sansa lifted herself off the ground and walked back to Hal, who was already unpacking another bag of food. "Here," he handed a loaf of bread and a pair of apples towards them, Sansa took the loaf of white bread and Sandor the two apples, "Break your fast."

Sandor took Sansa back to the fire pit and watched as Hal woke his brother with a light punt in his side, "Get up, we've got a long way ahead of us."


End file.
